Firsts
by khasael
Summary: Written for the January challenge at LJ community harrylovesdraco : “first glance, first touch, first kiss, first love”. The boys remember the first defining moments of their relationship. POVs alternate, beginning with Draco's.


Pairing: Harry/Draco

Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.

_Author's Notes_: Written for the January challenge at LJ community HarryLovesDraco. Prompt: "first glance, first touch, first kiss, first love". Also, unbeta'd, but a very special thanks to M for some amazing assistance.

Firsts

Draco hadn't known how significant Harry Potter would be in his life when he'd first laid eyes on him. He'd been a scrawny boy of eleven, messy black hair and innocent green eyes behind a broken pair of glasses. Nothing impressive to look at. Nothing at all that indicated how much influence the poorly-dressed boy would have over him in the coming years.

Four years later, Draco had been eating breakfast when a simple glance up from his toast has caused him to lock eyes with smouldering green ones across the Hall. That glance had seemed to go on forever, searing his brain with its intensity before turning suddenly away. And from then on, he hadn't been able to stop looking. Eyes flitting over Potter's perfect body in his Muggle clothes, or lingering looks at Potter in Quidditch leathers. Staring at Potter's silhouette on the pitch, when he flew too close to the sun to see properly. And gazing upon that profile as they sat in class, Draco's features carefully schooled into a sneer so that the boy he was watching would never know just how much he liked to look.

~*~

The first time Harry touched Draco, he had been full of passion he couldn't control. The first touch had bruised, the second, drawn blood. All he had seen was fury, fuelled by something else he was afraid to name, to admit.

Blows landed upon his own skin, fundamentally wrong, but still better than nothing, because at the very least, there was something—something full of pounding blood and quick breathing, passionate contact that demanded an outlet.

Much, much later in his life, Harry is still trying to make up for those blows, to replace the echoes of those rough touches with softer ones. After a while, he is satisfied that he's been successful, but that doesn't stop him from gently caressing that other body, rubbing tight, sore muscles into relaxation, and softly brushing one pale, aristocratic cheekbone with a calloused thumb.

~*~

Their first kiss is during the war, not some gentle private thing done in a secluded bedroom, but a violent, desperate thing done with a crumbling brick wall at Draco's back. One minute they are arguing, shouting, and even through the anger, Draco can see how afraid Potter is, how lonely he feels, and the next minute, Draco is shoved into the wall, Potter's fingers in his hair and his hips pinning Draco back so he couldn't escape even if he wanted to. And instead of fighting it, Draco only leans his face forward, and suddenly they are one, coming together so forcefully that their teeth click together and Draco tastes blood that might belong to him and might not.

And then Potter's tongue goes searching, forceful and sure, and Draco accepts it eagerly, breathing hard and wondering exactly where this has come from and if it will count tomorrow. But in the moment, it doesn't matter, because he'll take it as is, and enjoy it just the same.

~*~

Harry lies with his arms around Draco an hour before sunrise. The war has been over for nearly a year, but sometimes he forgets that. Sometimes the stress still gets to him and he wakes up in a panic. But all it takes is the feeling of his lover in his arms to know that he is home, that it's all over, and he's safe. They have a life together now, full of glances and touches and kisses.

This is the first time that Harry has felt truly safe, and he knows it has everything do with this love that they've managed to find, to nurture even when it doesn't seem possible. And what makes it even more unbelievable is that he knows Draco feels the same way. There is nothing like the certainty, the fresh, sharp, sweet intoxication of first love.


End file.
